


The Road Goes Ever On

by amnevitah



Series: History Will Be Kind To Me [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, And Then Some, F/M, Gen, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Women Being Awesome, and even actual history, and shameless tolkien nerd, i am both a shameless history nerd, it's gonna be great, put these two things together and..., sorrynotsorry, this happens, we're going to go through every age of Middle Earth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-31 19:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3990850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amnevitah/pseuds/amnevitah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to Middle Earth. (part of the History Will Be Kind To Me trilogy)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chicago, 2004 C.E.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death.

“They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to Middle Earth." - George R. R. Martin

* * *

Lucy did not die peacefully nor did she ‘go quietly into that good night’.

She raged. Raged as only the dying can rage. Raged because she was twenty-five years old and she had so much more to do with her life. Raged because her life had been stolen from her just as it had begun. And so she did not lay back and accept the end. She grasped at her last breath with both hands and tugged, gulping and gasping as if she could keep it locked in her lungs by sheer force of will. And yet…even Lucy’s stubbornness was no match for cancer.

Her vision was the first to go. Colors leached from the world and the faces of her loved ones blurred until they bled together completely. Their voices joined not long after, the ever-present din waning into nothingness leaving a silence so complete Lucy felt true fear. The pain was the last to leave and Lucy clung to it, she clung to it like a lifeline even as the rest of her senses failed her.

And so it was that Lucinda Baris died on a dreary Tuesday afternoon. …But, as it happened…this was not the end…

* * *

In the Void, something beckoned.

It beckoned as a light would a moth. _Come_ , it seemed to say. _Be at peace._ The Voice grew stronger, as if it were tugging at her soul.

Be at peace…

Be at peace…

Be at peace…

Except Lucy did not _want_ to be at peace.

She wanted to _live_.

Far and away, a different light burned like a beacon in the darkness. Stubbornly, Lucy turned from the Voice and urged herself towards the Light…a light that turned into two…as Lucy rose to meet it a very different voice rang out, soothing her soul like a parent’s caress…

_Now what are you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think of this as more of a prologue than anything. The real story comes after this. This is just here to explain where Lucy came from, her major driving motivation, and how and why she ends up where she does later on. 
> 
> Chapter Timeframe: March 16, 2004 - ???
> 
> Today in "Middle Earthean History, Culture, and Geography Notes AKA Stuff I Feel Like Talking About":  
> \--> The pseudo title of this chapter comes from the song Death Is the Road to Awe by Clint Mansell (which is absolutely breathtaking. Go listen to it).


	2. The Halls of Mandos, 1344 Y.T.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebirth.

"Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there's a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see." - _Helen Keller_

* * *

 They were strange beings, these Valar.

Their curiosity was like a living thing and their intangible touches pressed at her spirit with unrestrained wonder.

_What are you?_

_Where did you come from?_

_How did you get here?_

The whispers echoed in her mind, less like true voices and more like the feel of summer or the rush of waves smoothing stones. She could feel the Valar delve into her soul, feel them plucking at her memories like the strings of a harp, seeking to _understand_.

Whatever they were expecting, it certainly wasn’t what they discovered.

… _Not possible_ …

 _…Could this be_ …

And then a voice rang out like a sigh, _The One is silent_.

One by one, Lucy felt the fey murmurs go quiet. And then…

 _Come child_.

The cool touch of the Keeper of Souls guided her through the stillness of his caverns. Inside she could feel the brush of other spirits at the edge of her senses.

At least, it seemed, she would not be alone.

* * *

Námo.

That’s what the other souls whispered when he appeared. Ever at the back of her mind, Lucy could feel the Keeper of Souls. Watching. Waiting. Once she had called out his name. Like a curtain being drawn back, his presence had filled her senses, there before her and yet far away.

 _Why do you keep me here?_ She had asked.

_Because you are not like the others._

And he was right. The other souls in the Halls were fey. The shape of their minds held memories of the shadowed places of forests, of starlight, and of the mirrored surface of a great lake. There was a strangeness to those souls, an unfathomable ancientness that Lucy could only guess at.

 _Is this Heaven?_ Though Lucy had never been raised to be religious, it seemed a fair enough question, all things considered. She had felt Námo reach into her mind as if peering at her thoughts to glean some mystery. There was a beat, a moment of contemplation, and then…

 _No_.

Of course this had only left her with more questions than answers. If not Heaven then what _was_ this place? It seemed too quiet and too peaceful for her to consider it _Hell_. Had the Abrahamic religions had it wrong then? Could this be one of the other myriad afterlifes spoken of throughout history? Whatever the case, Námo was silent on the matter.

She had no idea how long she spent in that place. There was no sense of time in the endless darkness of the Halls. The other souls seemed as ignorant as she and thus they proved to be of little help in that regard. There were strangely fewer of them than she would have thought though. Wouldn’t the afterlife be overflowing with the dead? How many billions of people had died since the dawn of time? Whatever the number, the Halls of Mandos proved to be significantly less crowded than Lucy would’ve first assumed.

After a while, Lucy found herself seeking some of those souls out. Some preferred solitude, as she soon learned, the flickering of their spirits dimmed and introspective. , but others proved to be as curious to meet her as she was in return. They would whisper to her in their fey tongue, their spirits flaring against her own inquisitively, and she would whisper back in kind. At first Lucy found conversation difficult as her own native language clashed with their’s but when all else failed she found herself able to turn to the much simpler language of memory and emotion. She would share with them the joy of swinging on a swing-set and they would share the mesmerizing awe of awakening to glimpse the stars for the first time. It was a crude and yet very intimate way to converse, but it helped Lucy to have a better understanding of the strange souls around her.

Time passed.

And then…

Námo came to her, pulling her into his ethereal embrace and murmured, _It is time for you to leave this place_. And then the other Valar were there, brushing whisper-soft against her mind, though their presence was unmistakeable.

 _It is time for you to live_.

 _To live_.

_To live!_

The voices of the Valar chorused in her mind, one after the other. With delicate care, Lucy felt herself pulled towards…something. She realized with a queer jolt that she was no longer in the Halls. She could not see where she was. She could not hear or smell or taste…

Lucy sucked in a breath…and opened her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now the fun really begins. Next stop, the Gardens of Lórien. 
> 
> Chapter Timeframe: Winter, 1344 Y.T. - Fall, 1345 Y.T.
> 
> Today in "Middle Earthean History, Culture, and Geography Notes AKA Stuff I Feel Like Talking About":  
> \--> Y.T. stands for the Years of the Trees.  
> \--> Námo is the original name for Mandos (which is really just the name of his Halls). Like Hades of the Underworld in Greek Mythology, Námo ended up being known by the name of the place he ruled over.  
> \--> Many of the souls Lucy encounters in the Halls of Mandos are those that awoke on the shores of Cuiviénen but were slain by Melkor and his ilk.


	3. The Gardens of Lórien, 1345 Y.T.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New beginnings.

“The best place to find God is in a garden. You can dig for him there.” - _George Bernard Shaw_

* * *

 It was like waking up from a dream, only to realize that she was still dreaming.

And Lucy didn’t want to wake up.

She clenched her toes around the lush green grass underfoot and turned her face up to the blue, blue sky and the feel of the wind, whisper-soft against her cheeks.

And she cried.

She cried long and hard.

She was _alive_. Alive.

Cool fingers brushed under her chin and gently urged her tear-stained face up. A kind face greeted her and though she did not recognize her in the physical form she now bore Lucy knew exactly who this was. Knew it down to the marrow of her bones. Though her face was unfamiliar, the gentle light in her eyes was not.

“Slowly,” Estë said with a mother’s warmth, pale fingers curling around her shoulders.

“…I…” The feeling of sound moving past her lips felt strange and foreign somehow. _How long was I in those Halls?_

“Not very long.” Lucy felt that she shouldn’t have been at all surprised that the vala had heard her thoughts. It was, after all, exactly how she had spoken to the valar when she had been nothing more than a restless spirit, a creature of memory and emotion without a body to house them.

Estë palmed the woman’s face, her hands cool and sure. “Slowly,” she repeated once more and Lucy felt her soul settle at once.

“I’m alive.” Wonder and awe laced through her every word.

Estë smiled. “You are.”

For the first time in years, Lucy laughed.

* * *

It was an interesting adjustment, learning to live again.

Lucy had spent the last years of her life sickly and caged by stark white walls and hopeful (and then grieving) family members. In that time she had forgotten what the sky looked like. Or just how sweet it was to wake up to a songbird’s call in the early morning. Or how wondrous the taste of an apple was, picked straight off its branch. There were so many things that sickness and death had dimmed or stolen from her, but in the Gardens everything was new again and Lucy reveled in it like a child who had just discovered the world outside.

By day she climbed trees and swam in streams and chased after the wild things that called the Gardens their home. And when her days came to an end and that strange golden light that wasn’t the sun faded from the sky, Lucy curled under one of the willow trees and slept under the light of the stars. And everywhere she went she ensnared the hearts of the maiar who watched over her. Whether they took the forms of prancing deer or gentle swans or clever foxes they followed Lucy into the wild places and played her childlike games and curled around her at night to keep her warm. It was the maiar who became her caretakers, her teachers, and her friends.

And then, someone new came to the Garden.

“So this is the fabled creature my kin speak so endlessly of.”

Lucy peered down at the speaker from her perch in the fork of her favorite climbing tree. Strangely, he appeared rather...normal. Unlike her many maiar friends, here stood a creature not unlike herself, one of flesh and blood (though considerably better-looking), with fair hair and blue eyes that twinkled with good humor.

“Who…?”

The maiar-man grinned. “I have many names little _Lewsë_ , though the Eldar call me Olórin.”

Lucy persed her lips. “I see that nobody has yet bothered to get my name right.” Ignoring her visitor’s confused look, she wiggled out of her place and, with a monkey’s grace, extricated herself from her leafy domain and dropped to the ground below. She didn’t even bother to brush the leaves and dust from her dress as she straightened herself up to her full height.

“My name,” Lucy proclaimed proudly and somewhat tiredly (she had clearly given this speech before), “Is _Lucy_ . Loo- _see_ . Not Loo- _say_.”

“My apologies,” Olórin said gravely with what was clearly a heavy dose of humor. “I only speak of what I have heard.”

That caught her interest. “Oh? And what have you heard?”

“Only that there is a wild creature in my Lord Irmo’s Garden, and that she has bewitched all of his servants into serving her instead.”

Lucy scoffed. “Hardly. You speak as if I cast a spell on them. They’re maiar. They do whatever they want. I didn’t tell them to follow me around.”

“But how could they not?” Olórin’s smile was a mischievous thing and Lucy didn’t trust it at all. “When you appeared from the Void like a star?”

Lucy shrugged. Already that journey seemed so far away, a faint memory, as if she had merely dreamed up the empty abyss she had found herself in after death as well as the sleepy, seductive Voice that had called to her there…

“Eru?” The look the maiar gave her was nothing short of awestruck. There were no secrets with the ainur.

Lucy shifted uncomfortably. “Who?”

“ _Ilúvatar_. All-Father. Creator.” The words were said with such reverence that Lucy could feel Olórin’s devotion seeping against her mind like the heady taste of summertime. Something clicked into place.

Lucy blinked.

“ _God_ ?” She whispered. “I heard _God_?”

Olórin smiled. “Is that your name for Him?”

Lucy suddenly leaned back against the trunk of her tree, dazed.

“Yeah,” She said later when she’d caught her breath. “I guess it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one’s a bit short again. We’ll get to the longer, more entertaining chapters soon I promise. 
> 
> Chapter Timeframe: Fall, 1345 Y.T. - Spring, 1346 Y.T.
> 
> Today in "Middle Earthean History, Culture, and Geography Notes AKA Stuff I Feel Like Talking About":  
> \--> The Gardens of Lórien is the domain of the vala Irmo (Vala of Dreams and Desires) and his wife Estë (Vala of Healing). It is where the newly re-embodied go to heal and ease their passage back into the land of the living.  
> \--> For those who don’t already know, Olórin is pre-Middle-Earth Gandalf.  
> \--> In Tolkien’s mythos, Eru and Ilúvatar are the Quenyan names given to the same Abrahamic God later worshipped all over the world in Lucy’s time. 
> 
> Quenya Names and Their Meanings/Pronunciations  
> Estë - Rest (ess-tay)  
> Lewsindë/Lewsë - Lucinda/Lucy (loo-sin-day/loo-say)  
> Olórin - Dream/Vision (uhl-or-in)  
> Irmo - Desirer (ear-moh)


	4. Valmar, 1351 YT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pieces are falling into place...

"Rare is the union of beauty and purity." - _Juvenal_

* * *

 It was like looking at the sun.

The Two Trees stood stark and proud against the sky. They were as different as they were awe-inspiring, one as tall and strong as a baobab and the other as lithe and delicate as a willow. They were gold and silver, sunlight and moonlight, and they were the center of the world.

Lucy was enchanted.

When the Valar had decreed that her time in the Gardens had come to an end, she had never imagined that _this_ was to be her new home. Valmar was a far different place from the Gardens of Lórien. Whereas the Gardens were a natural paradise, full of greenery and wild things, Valmar was a shining city where the roofs were golden and the streets were silver and everything buzzed with _magic_. Here she walked amongst gods as if it were the most natural thing in the world and all of time seemed to stand still.

Time did _not_ stand still though and she was not the _only_ one who walked amongst gods, a truth she quickly realized when a strange woman came to visit the Trees. Lucy wasn’t stupid. She’d _heard_ Olórin and the other ainur speak often of the other occupants of Aman...she had just never actually _seen_ any of them before.

“Who is she?” She asked Arien.

The maia paused her work and glanced at the woman. “A Minya from the village at the bottom of the hill.”

“A _Minya_?”

“One of the Eldar.” Arien explained patiently.

“Oh,” Lucy said slowly, and then, “...who are the Eldar?”

“The Children of Ilúvatar, like you,” Arien seemed to pause then, taking a closer look at Lucy before amending, “Well, perhaps not _entirely_ like you.”

Lucy didn't reply. She only stared after the woman, even when she finally turned to leave and disappeared down the hill, out of sight.

* * *

As it turned out, there _was_ a village at the base of Ezellohar and it was _filled_ with the Eldar. Things were different in Valmar though. There were _rules_ here, and one of those rules was apparently for the human to not go wandering into town unannounced.

“But why?” Lucy asked childishly. “Are they dangerous?”

Her glorified nursemaid, Rilyë, just shook her head. “No. They are good, and beloved of Manwë, but you are not like them.”

“But why does that matter?”

“Because you are a Child of Ilúvatar,” boomed a voice behind her and Lucy spun around to find the shimmering form of Aulë behind her. She stared, mesmerized by skin that gleamed like liquid gold and molten metal even as she flinched away from the blistering heat of his body, so much like a blast furnace.

“I don’t understand. If _I_ am a Child of Ilúvatar and _they_ are Children of Ilúvatar then why can we not meet?”

“Because you are a Child of Ilúvatar,” Aulë said again. “And you are _not_ a Child of Ilúvatar.”

Lucy frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Aulë stared down at her with burning eyes. “Only the Eldar are the Children of Ilúvatar. The One breathed life into them with the Flame Imperishable. They are his _only_ children...and yet...you _too_ carry the Flame within you. You are a Child of Ilúvatar Lewsindë...even if your origins remain a puzzle.”

“Do you mean...there aren’t any humans here?”

“Only the Children and the ainur. There are no others.”

Lucy felt dizzy. “I’m...I’m the _only_ one?”

“There are no others.” Aulë repeated.

 _There are no others_ . The words echoed in her head strangely. _There are no others_.

 _There are no others_.

 _There are no others_.

 _There are no others_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one. Don’t worry. Lots of elves and fun stuff next chapter. Pinky promise. 
> 
> Chapter Timeframe: Spring, 1351 Y.T. 
> 
> Today in "Middle Earthean History, Culture, and Geography Notes AKA Stuff I Feel Like Talking About":  
> \--> The Two Trees of Valinor were the source of light for all of Aman long before the sun and moon ever existed. The ‘female’ tree, Laurelin, was golden and shone during the day while its ‘male’ mate, Telperion, was silver and shone during the night. It’s never specified exactly what they both looked like other than their basic qualities so I decided to run with it. So in my fic Laurelin looks like a golden baobab tree (it’s the ‘upside down tree’ from Africa. Google it) while Telperion looks like a silver willow.  
> \--> Arien was a fire spirit and one of the maiar who tended to Laurelin, the golden tree of day. When the Two Trees were later destroyed by Melkor and the last flower and fruit harvested from them both, Arien volunteered to steer the fruit of Laurelin across the sky to bring daylight to all of Arda, thus becoming the Sun.  
> \--> A Minya is the singular word for one of the Minyar or Vanyar. They were the first group of elves who made it to Valinor after the Great Journey and are known for their golden hair and their love of poetry and the Two Trees. They are the most beloved race of elves of Manwë and Varda (the King and Queen of the Valar).  
> \--> The Children of Ilúvatar comprise the races of elves and men respectively. At this point in history, only the elves walk the Earth. Men have not been ‘born’ yet, so to speak, thus Lucy is something of an anomaly to the ainur. So, of course, when she showed up they weren’t quite sure what to make of her. She had a soul (which was something supposed to be special to only the ainur and the elves since only Eru can create a soul/fëa) so she was clearly a creation of Ilúvatar but she was also clearly not an elf. Thus when they decided to re-embody her/give her a new body they were working with a blueprint of Lucy’s blurry memories of what a human was (even though they had no idea what a human was) and the only Child of Ilúvatar they were familiar with: an elf. Thus Lucy looks just as she did before her death (average looks, round ears, etc)...but is immortal. She was given the same immortal hröa (body) that every elf has solely because the valar have never come across a mortal before (Eru has yet to come up with the whole ‘gift of death’ thing so they don’t know any better). To be fair though, she did make it clear in chapter one that she wanted to live...and it looks like she got her wish.  
> \--> Ezellohar was the hill upon which the Two Trees stood. 
> 
> Quenya Names and Their Meanings/Pronunciations  
> Arien - Sunlight Maiden (are-ee-ehn)  
> Rilyë - Glittering One (rill-yay)  
> Aulë - Invention (ow-lay)


	5. Alcarinilwë, 1354 Y.T.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alienation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s not chapter 10 of From Lands Beyond but it’ll have to do for now. Chapter 10 is being...difficult. I apologize that this didn’t come sooner but I’ve been having a lot of serious health problems lately so those come before writing (also my cat is dying which has...not been fun). I’m trying to pick up the pace, I promise.

“Every utopia - let's just stick with the literary ones - faces the same problem: What do you do with the people who don't fit in?” -  _ Margaret Atwood _

* * *

Lucy did not stay long in Valmar.

In fact it seemed much of her new life had been spent being passed from one guardian to the next. And so when the day finally came for her to once again be passed along to yet another glorified babysitter, Lucy went along willingly (if a little resignedly). She was a little shocked, however, to find that her new guardian was not to be a maiar or vala as had been in the past, but one of the  _ eldar _ . And not just  _ any _ eldar...

“The  _ king _ ?”

“The  _ High _ King, yes,” corrected Ninquë patiently as she attempted to wrangle Lucy’s dark hair into some semblance of order. It was getting a bit too long to manage these days and she had been thinking of just cutting it all off but when Lucy had mentioned this offhandedly to Ninquë the maiar maiden had given her a horrified look. 

“But why the High King? And why now?” Lucy questioned, confused. All this time she had been all but quarantined from the eldar and now suddenly everyone was ready to push her off to live with them?

“Lord Manwë thinks it time you learned to live amongst your own people.”

“But Aulë said that the eldar  _ aren’t _ my people,” she fired back. 

“But you are  _ all _ children of Ilúvatar,” Ninquë pointed out. And it seemed that  _ that _ truly was all that really mattered because several days later Lucy found herself standing before the High King of the eldar. 

He should’ve been an imposing man, with his great stature and noble bearing, but Ingwë only smiled at her and welcomed Lucy to his city like a long-lost friend. 

“You are most welcome in my House Lady Lewsë,” he said kindly. 

Lucy couldn’t help but smile in return and replied wryly, “I promise not to be too much of a burden.”

Ingwë laughed. “Oh hosting you will be no burden, I assure you. Lord Manwë does me a great honor in asking anything of me at all and to host you is no trouble. I only hope that you find Alcarinilwë to your liking.”

“I doubt I could ever dislike your city,” Lucy said earnestly. And it was true. Though Alcarinilwë was not quite the magnificent shining city that Valmar was or even the wild sanctuary that the Garden of Lórien was, it was still a place to be looked upon with awe. It brought to mind the ancient cities of India or China with its intricate, tiered architecture carved into the mountainside as if it were a part of it. 

“I should certainly hope so.”

* * *

Living with the eldar in Alcarinilwë proved to be a very different experience than her time amongst the maiar in Valmar.

For one thing, the people of Alcarinilwë, the  _ Minyar _ as they liked to call themselves, were extraordinarily pious and deferent to the ainur. For Lucy, someone who had laughed and joked and befriended such creatures and treated them as equals, it was very strange to suddenly be expected to bow and pray to them. Every morning the bells would ring and the prayer-song to Manwë and Varda would ring out and up towards the mountaintop and Lucy would be woken by servants so she might be dragged along to participate in strange rituals and ceremonies that had little to no meaning for her. For someone who had never been expected to attend church or participate in any sort of religious ritual before, Lucy found the experience to be less than ideal. 

And then of course there was the fact that, well, the Minyar were far more… _ conservative _ than Lucy was used to. In fact she was finding the society of Alcarinilwë to be somewhat...restrictive. No longer was Lucy allowed the freedom of wandering were she would and to speak to who she liked. Even her  _ clothing _ was confining now, what with all the high collars and yards of fabric intended to hide her shape (from nonexistent wandering eyes no doubt). It all reminded her a bit of mormonism or catholicism actually. And having grown up in a liberal city and raised by liberal parents, well, to say it all had been a bit of an adjustment would be a bit of an understatement. 

Still, Lucy made the best of her new surroundings and attempted to fit in as best she could. If this was to be her home now, and these people her new friends and caretakers, then let it not be known that she wasn’t willing to  _ try _ . 

Which of course was how she found herself playing nice with a group of female Minyar. Though she was technically considered to be of Ingwë’s household, Lucy didn’t see him all that much, and so was instead left to the care of his staff and relatives who seemed only too happy to include her, curious as they were of the strange new addition to their group. However this also meant she was forced to suffer through that curiosity whenever said eldar decided to comment upon her person. 

“Such strange ears you have,” one elda, Caliniel, observed

“Such an interesting shade,” another said, eyeing her dark hair speculatively.

“What was Eru thinking-” began another before being cut off with a stern look from her elder. 

“We are all Eru’s creatures,” the elder Minya, Ilmanis, said pointedly. “To criticise His design would be to question His judgement.”

Though Lucy appreciated the sentiment of Ilmanis she couldn’t help but feel like she was still being looked upon as something of an exotic zoo animal. It took much of her self control not to automatically fire back that she could hear them all quite well with her strangely shaped ears thank you very much and would appreciate it if they all stopped talking about her as if she weren’t there. Instead, she only smiled placidly and yearned for the freedom (and solitude) of the Gardens. Had she truly wanted to meet the eldar so badly all those months ago? She should’ve known the universe would find a way to twist her wish. Really she was foolish to have thought otherwise. 

Lucy sighed. So much for  _ trying _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but I mostly just wanted to show Lucy’s initial excitement of moving in with the elves...only to find out that the grass is really not greener on the other side. 
> 
> Chapter Timeframe: Summer, 1354 Y.T. 
> 
> Today in "Middle Earthean History, Culture, and Geography Notes AKA Stuff I Feel Like Talking About":  
> \--> Alcarinilwë is not a canon city. I made it up for this fic. We know that the Vanyar resided with the Noldor in Tirion after first coming to Aman but later settled at the base of Taniquetil to be close to Manwë and Varda. Since their home was never given a name in canon I decided to just make one up. I would tell you what the name means in bastardized Quenya but honestly...I forgot (I remember that alcarin means glorious...but that’s about it). I made up the name so long ago that I’ve completely forgotten its meaning and the notes which might have had such an answer are now lost. Oops.   
> \--> I’ve always seen Vanyarin culture as a mix of ancient China and medieval Europe. Very obsessed with ritual, piety, and rigid structure and social class, so that’s what you see here. 
> 
> Quenya Names and Their Meanings/Pronunciations  
> Ninquë - White One (neen-kway)  
> Ingwë - First Man/Male (ing-way)  
> Caliniel - Bright Daughter (cal-in-ee-ell)  
> Ilmanis - Starlight Woman (ill-maw-niece)


End file.
